Page 27 of Playing the Field
‘I stayed in the park. I was hoping you might want to come back.’
‘Er, yeah, I could do that. Are you in the same spot?’
‘On one of the benches. I’ve checked– no one else is still around.’
I watch Phoebs roll her eyes as I tell him I can be there in five minutes.
‘Am I crazy?’ I ask her once I’ve disconnected the call.
‘Yes, but when did that ever stop you?’ she says with a smile. ‘Go and have some fun, but just be cautious. Remember Craig’s not the only one with a few red flags to his name.’
15
‘Hi again,’ Ben says, standing up to greet me as I approach. ‘So have you got any energy left after this afternoon?’
There’s a bag by his feet that he didn’t have earlier. ‘What have you got in mind?’ I ask. I assume it’s something to do with whatever is inside.
‘I had a few bits stashed in the car that I thought might come in handy as it’s such a beautiful evening.’ He rummages around in the holdall. ‘I’ve got a frisbee, pétanque balls, some table tennis bats...’
I smile at him. ‘Sounds like we’ve got ourselves a triathlon. Loser buys dinner; winner gets to choose where?’
He laughs. ‘Deal. I hear the Ledbury’s summer menu is pretty special. I look forward to finding out.’
‘In your dreams!’ I grab the frisbee and fling it high into the air. ‘It’ll be the tasting menu at Gordon Ramsay, I think you’ll find,’ I call out as he goes tearing after it.
He leaps athletically off the ground and catches it mid-flight, then sends it wheeling back my way. ‘Or maybe the Latymer in Bagshot,’ he shouts.
‘The Fat Duck!’ I holler, as I send it on its way again.
We keep this up until he draws a blank on his turn, pausing too long before offering up a tentative ‘McDonald’s’.
‘Am I allowed to say that?’ he asks, wincing because he already knows the answer.
‘No way! I think what you’re allowed to say is that this is one–nil to me.’
‘Fair enough.’ He walks back towards me and chucks the frisbee back in the bag, holding his other hand out for me to shake. I notice how warm and strong it feels wrapped around mine and I think we both hold on for slightly longer than we need to.
When he finally lets go, he says, ‘We’d better go and see if we can get on a table tennis table, so I can even things out.’
‘I’m not saying anything,’ I reply smugly. I’ve been playing since I was tall enough to see over the edge of the table. I’m confident of another win. We might not even need the pétanque.
I’m in for a surprise though. It quickly becomes clear Ben is on another level to me. I might have knocked around in the park with friends on and off for most of my life, but he admits afterwards that he played for his borough when he was a teenager. So while I manage to give him a reasonable run for his money, there’s no question of me taking a game off him.
‘I make that one all,’ he says, eyes sparkling as he comes round the table for another handshake.
I give him a playful shove. ‘I can’t believe you let me think I was in with a chance.’
‘You’ll always be in with a chance,’ he says, holding my gaze.
And any residual resolve not to be charmed by him melts away as I feel a sudden urge to kiss him. I know I probably shouldn’t want to– it can only end badly– but being around him just makes me feel so light and happy.
It’s Ben who snaps us out of the moment again. ‘It looks like it’s all down to the pétanque. Good job I’ve got my throwing arm warmed up already.’
I’ve never played before, but I’m not about to admit it. There’s no need to boost his confidence any further. I know I need to get my balls as close as possible to the marker, but if there’s a knack, I’m not aware of it. I just hope the throw-and-pray method is effective.
We toss a coin to decide who’s going to set the marker– and he wins. But he doesn’t toss it too far away, either because he’s being generous or because he wants to make it easier for himself. He invites me to throw first and I misjudge it completely, lobbing my ball about three feet further than I need to.
‘Hard luck,’ he says, before pitching his first ball to within a few inches of the target. He grins at me, clearly impressed with his effort. ‘I think I’m getting hungry. You’re up.’
